


Give Me Tonight

by metal_eye



Series: Songfics [3]
Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), American Idol RPF, Kris Allen (Musician)
Genre: Ambiguity, Frottage, M/M, Sort Of, Straight!Kris
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-23
Updated: 2010-12-23
Packaged: 2019-01-20 13:45:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12434106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/metal_eye/pseuds/metal_eye
Summary: Sequel toBitter-Sweet, in a way. The Idol Tour, once again, except on the bus this time.





	Give Me Tonight

**Author's Note:**

> Another fic I wrote at the beginning of summer 2009. Now I look back and it seems as if I were writing blind. I had to go back and edit the hell out of this sucker before I liked it again. (from 2011)

“Well,” Kris began. “I mean. Did you mean it? I distracted you?”

“Kris, when was the last time you heard me say something I didn’t mean?”  
  
Kris grinned. “Point.”  
  
Adam tried to read Kris’s face. “So it doesn’t make you feel weird, then?”  
  
“No,” Kris said, a little too soon. “Definitely not. I mean…” He fidgeted.

Adam stared at him. A crashing noise came from the other end of the tour bus, but it seemed less than irrelevant.  
  
“I mean,” Kris continued, “that you’re amazing. I mean, I don’t know if I’m even into guys, but—”  
  
“Stop,” said Adam. “Please. You’re only going to make it harder.”

 

_Sometimes when you’re like this I want no part_

 

There was silence.

Then Kris started giggling. It took Adam a few seconds to get it.  
  
“Make it harder?” Kris laughed, falling over sideways into his bunk.  
  
_“GODDAMMIT,”_ cried Adam, also laughing. “I DIDN’T EVEN DO THAT ON _PURPOSE!”_  
  
There was an explosion of laughter. They both burned calories for several minutes, Kris lying askew with his hand over his eyes, Adam bent forward, almost kissing his own knees.

Then the chuckles died down in stages, like popcorn kernels in a microwave bag.

“I can’t laugh with anyone else like that,” Kris said, softly.  
  
Adam wanted to say _Why not?,_ but he settled for a soft look, slightly inquisitive, still resigned to his role.

 

_If you give me an answer that I can hold onto  
Something that we can belong to_

 

Adam scowled internally. The fluidity of situations had always seemed so natural to him – why was the world so obsessed labels, with rules, with boxing people in? Why was _he_ so obsessed with it?  
  
“C’mere,” he said, and Kris got up from the bedframe, trusting him – he had no reason not to – and Adam enveloped Kris into a tight hug, having to scoot back on the bunk to make room for both of their bodies.

 

_Will you make it last?_

 

“I wish…” Kris began.  
  
Adam had always considered their hotel room experiment to be just that: an experiment. But his heart opened at those words. “What,” he whispered. “What.”

 

_Like every start you make is a false start  
that’s holding you back in the past_

 

“I don’t know.”  
  
“Kris, baby,” he said, without even meaning to, “not knowing can be the best way to start.”  
  
Kris’s muscles came unclenched then, like a fishing line going slack, and he needed to be reeled in. No predatory intentions, Adam convinced himself – just a rod and a line. Just a catch. Like a what— _what if I trusted you completely?_  
  
With Kris’s relaxed muscles revealed tension in other more obvious areas. Subtletly was now impossible.  
  
“Um,” Adam started. “Kris—”  
  
“Shut up,” came the statement. “Just shut up. I don’t know and I don’t care, okay? I don’t fucking care.”

 

_Cause now your indifference has grown  
I don’t want to follow your shadow home_

 

Kris pulled his upper body back – thus far buried against Adam’s shoulder – and closed his eyes.  
  
Adam waited.  
  
The kiss came faster this time. Earlier.

 

_Your whole world is an early night_

 

And Adam found it hard to stop, again.

But again? Was it really a repeat? There was something different now, something earnest, less speculative. A first-time want.  
  
“Kris, god,” Adam breathed. “Don’t start this and then stop.”  
  
“I’m not going to stop.”  
  
Echo over echo. It was cavernous, like Adam had three ears.  
  
Mouth over mouth, now, except there was less direction, and more of a _so what?_

 

_So won’t you do something with me tonight?  
Under this pretty sky_

 

The beer, the tour, the stage, the surreality, all of it said, _So what?_

Something shook the bus, likely the engine, but who heard it? Not them.  
  
Not Kris, who was taking this, whatever it was, and running with it. Not Adam, who could barely fucking believe his good fortune. They were too busy testing each other. Testing, tasting.  
  
They unfolded just long enough to morph from a hug into a sprawl, moving against the sheets, grinding from sternum to stomach. Adam had to hold himself back—“I don’t want to scare you – oh god, not you,” he said, amidst panting.  
  
“You could never scare me.”  
  
It was like something Adam would have _scripted_ if he could have.  
  
But he hadn’t. It wasn’t. There was no script. There was only spontenaeity.  


_Give me tonight_  
Say that you might  
I’ll make it all right 

 

“Ungh,” came his groan, in a lost attempt to be eloquent.  
  
_I love you more than anyone._  
  
Was this spoken, or sworn in silence?  
  
He didn’t know. It could have been either.  
  
Adam’s jeans were chafing him. The whole fucking world was chafing him. The daily grind was laughing, defiant.

Rug burn was nothing compared to crotch burn, Adam thought – then thought again. _People can hear._  
  
It didn’t stop him. Didn’t stop either of them. Friction knows no logical enemies.

 

_Give me tonight  
Say that you might_

 

Heat was overtaking. Their hips were grinding like the sides of a wrench freed to grasp a screw. There was a breathless gap between the heaving and gasping of names – a little too loud – then wetness, and release. _Oh._  
  
Adam couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten off with his pants still on. This was breaking all of his rules.

How did it matter? How would it end?  
  
“I…” Kris began. “I wish you weren’t.”

Weren’t what?  
  
Adam thought, _It doesn’t matter._  
  
Because it didn’t. Not tonight.

 

_I’ll make it all right._  



End file.
